No More Fux

Eight miles down that red clay road (Clay road)
To a place where the cops don't go (Don't go)
Riding four-by-fours, drop it low (Drop it low)
Round up all the girls that we know

We riding high
Can't give no more fux
I just ran out

Drink up all the whiskey, we done drank the bar dry (Dry)
Smoked all the weed up, can't get no more high (High)
Yeah, I'm super numb but I feel so alive (Alive)
In the back of my truck looking up at the sky, ayy
Somebody tell 'em get ready man
I'm on a whole 'nother level
Don't kill my buzz, let me just vibe
Ain't going nowhere, I'm too wasted to drive
Stop all that talking, you blowing my hype
Please don't go wasting all of my supply
I'm going crazy, look at stars
Shoot for them things and land a high five

We riding high
Can't give no more fux
I just ran out

I made a killing all up in the kitchen was slipping them chickens
And I had to watch everyone of my homies get [?] man
For twenty a sentence
I had to switch it up, pick up the mic
Do something different, and change up my life
Now I'm on charts and doing it right
Living a crazy one hell of a life
I can be anywhere, look where I landed
I'm taking off, all these others are stranded
We made a company, look how we branded
Now we all pouring up glasses of brandy
[?] get it up out of the mud
No wonder why everyone's showing us love
We ain't the ones to sweep under the rug
We come for the crown so pour this shit up

Eight miles down that red clay road (Clay road)
To a place where the cops don't go (Don't go)
Riding four-by-fours, drop it low (Drop it low)
Round up all the girls that we know

We riding high
Can't give no more fux
I just ran out

Eight mile down a dirt road
I think I wound up in Heaven (Heaven)
I'm taking too many shots, man
I shoulda ended at seven (Seven)
Party ended at 11
Drank too many, '57 Chevies (Yeah)
I should've stopped with the Crown
Now, damn, who's driving my Chevy? (what?)
I'm in the passenger seat (Seat)
Fading in and out
Music way too fucking loud
Somebody turn it down (Down)
I think I'm blacking out
There ain't no backing out (Nah)
I'm already committed now
So I'm packing a Black & Mild

Eight miles down that red clay road (Clay road)
To a place where the cops don't go (Don't go)
Riding four-by-fours, drop it low (Drop it low)
Round up all the girls that we know

We riding high
Can't give no more fux
I just ran out